Reborn in Sin
by drakon136
Summary: After the fire, he was nothing more than an empty shell. He had no mind, no personality, perhaps even no soul. And yet, something completely empty is something without flaw; and when the Witch saw this flawless child, she embraced him, for she could not help but love someone so flawless; someone so perfect.
1. Prologue

"Das Material ist aus Silber und Eisen. Der Grundstein ist aus Stein und dem Großherzog des Vertrag."

These words that are spoken carry one singular intent, one singular purpose. These are the words which will summon the Greatest of Heroes.

"Schutz gegen einen heftigen Wind. Schließ alle Tore, geh aus der Krone, zirkulier die Gabelung nach dem König."

These words are spoken by a man who has one singular intent, one singular purpose. He is the man who will reclaim the Holy Grail; he _must_ reclaim it.

"Füll, füll, füll, füll, füll. Es wird fünfmal wiederholt. Nur ist es die volle Zeit gebrochen.  
" - Satz."

And yet, this man is not truly a man, but a golem. He is a golem who has one singular intent, one singular purpose. His purpose is to reclaim the Holy Grail for the family. Nothing else matters, nothing else carries any importance, for this is his purpose; his _duty_.

"Du überläßt alles mir, mein Schicksal überläßt alles deinem Schwert. Das basiert auf dem Gral, antwort wenn du diesem Willen und diesem Vernunftgrund folgst."

And yet, he has already failed in his duty once. This is not the first War, nor is it the second; it is the third. It is not even his first War, but his second. He was born - no, _created_ \- with one singular intent, one singular purpose, and he has already failed once.  
He shall not fail again.

"Liegt das Gelübde hier. Ich bin die Güte der ganzen Welt. Ich bin das Böse der ganzen Welt."

For this time, the ritual has been altered. This ritual, intended to summon the Greatest of Heroes, has been changed from its original purpose. Though it shall still summon someone who can be called the Greatest, it shall not summon a Hero. Time and time again, this ritual has summoned Heroes, and yet none of these Heroes have proven capable of claiming the Grail.  
So this time, this golem's ritual shall not summon a Hero.

"Du bist der Himmel mit dreien Wortseelen."

Nor shall this golem's ritual summon a Villain, for a Villain would certainly fall when their competition consists of so many Heroes.

"Komm, aus dem Kreis der Unterdrückung, der Schutzgeist der Balkenwaage - !"

This time, this golem shall summon something... Different. And as the light of the ritual fills the room, this golem knows that whatever he summons, it shall lead him to victory.  
And when the light fades and the golem sees his Servant, with her bright silver hair, her astonishing purple eyes, her beauty any woman would envy, he knows the Grail shall belong to the Einzbern once more.

* * *

Fire.

There is nothing else. When he looks around, he sees nothing but fire. When he listens, he hears nothing but the screams of those trapped by the fire, consumed by the fire. When he breathes, his lungs are filled with the thickest of smoke, caused by this almost _unholy_ fire.

And yet, this child stumbles forward, determined to reach the end of this hell, not knowing - or perhaps simply not _caring_ \- that hell has no end.

The air is as thick with screams as it is with smoke, and yet he moves forward.  
He comes across bodies of those who have long ago lost their will to live, and yet he moves forward, awkwardly crawling over the corpses as if they were logs blocking a trail.  
Out of the corners of his eyes, he sees some still clinging to what little hope is left, before it is snuffed out. Some are desperately trying to rescue their belongings or their families, only to be crushed as their houses collapse on their heads. Some have fallen to their knees, praying to God for protection or forgiveness, only for the dreaded fire to consume them like the rest. Some have given up on all else and are simply sprinting to any area which appears to have less fire than the rest of this hell, only to trip and fall to the ground as the flames catch up to them.  
Despite all that happens around him, this child continues to move forward.

And in the end, shortly after passing an elderly man who appeared to be moving _towards_ the fire, the child falls to his knees. His path has reached its end, as the only thing left in front of him is yet another wall of fire. His physical wounds are surprisingly light compared to what others have suffered, though he is still more akin to a corpse than any person should be . Regardless, the fire has already burned away all else. His mind, his willpower, perhaps even his _soul_ have all been burnt away by this God-forsaken fire. In the end, as the flames catch up to him and threaten to consume him as they have consumed all else, he is nothing more than an empty shell.

But then... **It** comes.

The way It moves, you would swear It appears to be mud. But there is no way this could possibly be called mud. Nothing this beautiful, this **pure** could be named after simple dirty water. The flames seem to part to let It through, as if they believe it would be a sin to burn away something so pure.  
And when the child sees It coming towards him, he smiles. As it falls over him, he knows that he will at least die in the embrace of something beautiful.

And yet, It does not want this child to die, for It can see the beauty of this child. It sees him, empty as he was, and as such without a single flaw. It can only dream of being as perfect as this child, and It loves him.

And he loves It back, for it is impossible not to love something so beautiful.

And as anyone would do for someone they love if given the chance, It chooses to save him.

It heals the cuts and burns that cover every inch of his flesh, allowing him to feel something other than pain again. It opens the airways of his smoke-damaged lungs, flooding him with air once more.  
It even rebuilds the child's mind and spirit, allowing him to live again.

With the child's healing complete, It has to return to Its broken home. It is sad, for It was unable to embrace the one It loves so much, and the child is sad, for he never wanted to leave the embrace of the one who loves him so much, the one whom he had come to love so much. But for now, the child lacks the energy to return to the one who loves and is loved; for now, he just wants to sleep. He is barely able to keep his eyes open long enough to see a man stumbling towards him before he falls into the most peaceful sleep of his life.

* * *

When the child wakes, he is surrounded by brightness. The lights are bright, the floors are bright, the walls are bright, everything is so bright. The only thing he can see which is not bright is this dirty-looking man sitting by his bed. But even this man, after looking at the child, dons a smile that cannot be called anything other than bright.

He introduces himself as Emiya Kiritsugu - the child recognizes this man as the one he saw just before he slept. Apparently, this man had been wandering through that hell the child was in, desperately looking for someone still alive. And as luck would have it, he found the child.

As is formality, after giving his own name, he asks for the child's. The child thinks for a moment, almost unsure himself. But then, his memories of that beauty come back to him, and he smiles. How could he have forgotten his own name?

"Satella Shirou."


	2. Chapter 1

If you were to ask the average person on the streets of Fuyuki what Satella Shirou was like, provided they knew who you were talking about, you would be told that he is the strangest boy you would ever see. Those who could reasonably claim to know him would tell you how much of an understatement this was. And finally, those who _truly_ knew him would swear that, despite all you may have heard, he is as normal a boy his age could possibly be.

With that third opinion in mind, if you took just a glance at Shirou so that you could come to your own conclusions on the boy, you would wonder how it was possible to be such an atrocious liar. After all, how could a boy who looked so utterly... _unnatural_ , be normal in any way? His extraordinarily pale skin, his hair the brightest shade of silver you could ever see, his astonishing purple eyes; it simply should not be possible for a child to look this way without them either putting a great deal of effort into changing their appearance or suffering from some horrid combination of birth defects, yet those close to him would swear that his unnatural appearance was, in fact, entirely normal.

Again, how was it possible to be such a horrid liar? They must know they cannot fool a single person.

Unfortunately, though Emiya Kiritsugu was well aware of the utter implausibility of this lie, he had no choice but to smile and repeat it. What else could he do, after all? He could not tell the truth, that he believed his adopted son was tainted by the remnants of the Holy Grail itself, and that this was the source of his unnatural appearance. At best, anybody he told would believe that he was mocking them. At worst, they could actually be so foolish as to _believe_ him, and who knows how much trouble that could cause?

No, it is better to pretend that all is well and stubbornly say that Shirou is a perfectly normal boy thank you very much; let them believe that his son is ill and that he is trying to hide it to protect the boy, or whatever else they may assume. So long as they don't discover the truth, all is well.

Alas, there are some days where Shirou made it nearly impossible for even a man as stubborn as Emiya Kiritsugu to maintain this lie. And after he saw the three unconscious children surrounding Shirou, he knew it was going to be one of those days.

He looked down at Shirou - sitting on the ground, shaking like a leaf - and kneeled, putting his hand on the boy's shoulder. Shirou jumped, and looked up at Kiritsugu.

"Get inside," Kiritsugu said, in as soft and gentle a tone he could manage, considering the situation.  
Judging by the fearful look in Shirou's eye and his frantic pace as he ran across the street to his home, it seemed he was neither soft nor gentle. Quite the opposite, in fact.

With Shirou back inside the home, Kiritsugu took a look around to see if there were any witnesses. With none identified, he knelt down beside the nearest child. He would need to look at the memories of one of them. Though it certainly wasn't necessary to do so in order to alter their memories, it would make things go along much more quickly; and considering just how much damage the Grail's curse would do to him from even brief use of his circuits, he wanted to get things done as quickly as possible.

* * *

It was just another normal day. Tarō had just left school for the day, and was walking home with his friends at his side. They were telling jokes, laughing about the things their classmates did, wondering what they would do when they got back home. Just a day like any other.

But then, Tarō saw... _him_. The freak. Satella Shirou, the weird kid who, to him, almost looks more like an alien than a human. The kid that doesn't even share his family's surname. Frankly, Tarō was just about done with the kid. Every day he saw him, doing his own thing, living his life as if he was normal, as if anything about him even came close to being normal.

Before Tarō knew it, he had sped up. He just had to give to give the freak a piece of his mind, take him down a peg.

"Hey, Shirou-kun!" he yelled out. "Come here! I have something to say to you!"

But Shirou kept moving, not reacting in any visible way. Tarō called out again. "Hey, I'm talking to you!"

But still Shirou refused to react, so Tarō started to run. When he caught up with Shirou he quickly grabbed him by the shoulder. Shirou finally stopped moving, and glared back at Tarō, but shook his hand off and kept walking.

 _This freak really wants to do this?_ Tarō thought angrily, before running back up to Shirou. This time, he swung his foot up with as much strength as he could and kicked him in the back of the knee. As Shirou cried out in pain, Tarō quickly shoved him to the ground, and grabbed onto his shoulder once more.

"Look what you've made me do, Shirou-kun!" Tarō shouted at the boy as he lay on the ground. "I only wanted to talk to you, but you didn't want to listen! Why did you have to make me do this to you?"

Tarō leaned in closer to Shirou's head. As he did this, Shirou looked back at Tarō, rage plain to see on his face. _How dare this freak look at a normal person like that_ _!_ _He needs to be put in his place!_

But before anyone could be put in anyone's place, Tarō felt something tugging at the neckline of his shirt, and he was suddenly pulled into the air.

"W-what the hell!?" Tarō screamed. He looked behind to see what picked him up, but saw only the blue sky above him, and his friends floating in the air much like the way he was. He looked back down at Shirou, but before he could say anything, he and his friends were slammed back into the ground, each of their bodies making a sickening crunch as they landed. Tarō had no idea what had just happened, but he felt a lot of pain, could barely move any parts of his body, and felt very tired all of a sudden. He really wanted nothing more than to sleep; he'd deal with that freak later. Speaking of which, where was he?

Tarō adjusted his head as much as he could and looked up at Shirou. As Tarō's eyes closed and he drifted off into the sleep he so desperately needed, he saw Shirou sitting on the ground, wearing a look of pure shock on his face.

* * *

Scarcely a moment after finishing altering the memories of the child, Kiritsugu began to cough up blood. It's amazing how much damage the Grail's curse has done to him, that even altering the memories of an unconscious child harms both his body and his circuits so. And to think, he still had two more children whose memories needed to be altered. Regardless, it had to be done. He couldn't exactly have the children telling people that Shirou magicked them into the air and broke every bone in their body; normally he couldn't see people believing that, but considering how unbelievably... _unbelievable_ Shirou was, people could believe anything about him.

Though his circuits would not appreciate the strain, and his body would never thank him, he had to do it. Even though his circuits would never recover, his body would. Avalon would make sure of that.

Fortunately for his body and circuits, though unfortunately for... other things, the other children would not need to have their memories modified. Pushing that thought out of his mind, Kiritsugu went back into his home, intent on having a talk with Shirou. As unlikely as he was to get one, he needed an explanation for this incident.

He found Shirou right where he expected; in his room, sitting on his bed. Putting much more effort into sounding soft and gentle this time, he spoke to his son.

"Shirou?"

Shirou quickly looked up at his father, tears visibly running down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry father, I didn't mean to hurt them I just wanted them to stop I-"

"Shirou."

Immediately, Shirou stopped talking, and looked down at the floor.

"Shirou, I know that this has been scary for you, and I understand why you are nervous, but I need you to try to calm down and explain to me what happened."

Shirou nodded, and took a couple deep breaths before speaking again. "They... they were going to hurt me, father. They already hurt me some; they kicked me in the leg and pushed me to the ground. They were shouting at me and tried grabbing me before that, and they were just making me so angry, when they hurt me... I don't know how it happened."

"What happened, Shirou?"

Shirou took another deep breath to calm himself, and continued. "When they shoved me to the ground, when I was angriest, there were... shadows, shaped like hands, coming out of my body. They... picked up the boys, and I didn't know what to do. When I started panicking, the hands, they slammed the boys down into the ground. It was so fast, it all happened so fast, and the _crunch_ when they hit the ground..."  
Shirou buried his head in his hands, and continued. "I don't know how it happened but I know I just _know_ that I did it somehow and I didn't mean to I didn't want to hurt them I just wanted them to stop hurting me but I know I hurt them really badly and I'm so so sorry I-"

"Shirou."

Again, Shirou stopped his panicking immediately.

"I'm going to go outside for a moment to think, Shirou. Stay here for now."

With that, Kiritsugu began to walk out of the room. As he opened the door, he heard Shirou's voice behind him.

"Father?"

His hand still on the door, Kiritsugu turned around.

"The boys... will they be alright?"

He knew this was coming. He truly, truly hoped it wouldn't, but it did. He has to tell him, there's no reason not to tell him, it will be better in the long run if he tells him-  
"They'll be fine, Shirou. Don't worry."

With that, he walked out of the run and closed the door behind him. _I truly have gone soft_ , he thought, as he heard Shirou's sobs in the room behind him. _Can't even bear to tell a child the truth._

Kiritsugu walked outside, bringing a package of cigarettes and an ashtray as he went. _Haven't smoked in a while_ , he thought, _but I think I'm going to need it._ As he took a cigarette out to light, he started to ponder what he should do about Shirou. He was almost certain that those hands Shirou talked about were a result of the Grail's influence over him. Of course, he wasn't exactly sure why or how the Grail's curse would change his appearance and grant him special powers where it killed or crippled everybody else it touched, but he couldn't think of any other explanation for manifesting an uncontrollable deadly power that only he can see. Of course, there was also the possibility that Shirou managed to open his circuits and had developed the technique himself. But that would mean that Shirou either developed a technique he cannot control, or his violent outburst was intentional; to Kiritsugu, both of those options seemed even less plausible.

No, those hands had to be a result of the changes the Grail made to Shirou. But that had some disturbing implications as well. If the Grail gave Shirou an invisible, deadly, and uncontrollable power, what other things has it done to him that have yet to manifest? And just as importantly, how many more times will incidents like this occur? How many people will he kill because he can't control his powers? How long will it be before he endangers the secrecy of magic?

...How long will it be before the Mage's Association takes notice of him, and "rewards" his unique powers with a Sealing Designation?

Kiritsugu knew what he had to do. He hated it, he hated himself for if, he hated himself for even _thinking_ of it, but for the good of humanity as a whole, the Magus Killer had to kill Shirou.

But.

Even though Kiritsugu knew that he had to do it, also knew that he couldn't. Even though Shirou would certainly do something like this again, he refused to hurt Shirou. Even though his ideals as the Magus Killer demand that he kill this potential threat to human life, he refused to hurt Shirou. After all, Emiya Kiritsugu has not been the Magus Killer in quite some time; not since the end of the fourth war.

He is Emiya Kiritsugu, a man whose life has left him feeling far older than he truly is.

He is Emiya Kiritsugu, a man broken down by the weight of his ideals.

He is Emiya Kiritsugu, a man who wouldn't even entertain the idea of hurting his family, no matter how justified the reason.

And whether he was adopted or not, whether he was tainted by the Grail or not, whether he was a metaphorical ticking time bomb or not, Satella Shirou was his son. And no good father would ever dream of hurting their son.

But, he still needed to do _something_. He couldn't just sit back and watch while Shirou's abilities threatened to kill others entirely by accident when there was something he could do that might help.

* * *

As the door to his room opened again, Shirou lifted his head back up from his hands. His adoptive father, Emiya Kiritsugu, walked back into the room.

"May I sit with you?" his father requested, gently and softly. Shirou gave a quick nod of his head, and his father sat down on the bed beside him.

After a moment of silence, Kiritsugu put a hand on his son's shoulder, and began speaking again. "The boys will have to go to the hospital," he said. "I don't know if they will be fine, but I'm sure the doctors will do everything they can."

He paused for a moment, but then continued. "When they wake up, they won't remember a thing about your involvement in the incident." Shirou looked up to his father, surprise plain to see on his face as he did. "If they remember anything about it, it will be that they were struck by a car." Kiritsugu turned towards his son. "You will need to learn to control your anger, Shirou. I think you understand why we can't have another incident like this occurring." Shirou frantically nodded his head in response.

The two sat there in silence for a time, both staring at the floor, before Kiritsugu spoke up again. "When this dies down, I believe I will have to teach you magic." Shirou quickly looked up at his father again, once more shocked by what he was saying. "I will admit that I would prefer if I did not have to, but there is a chance it could help you control your power."

With that, Kiritsugu rose to his feet. "I will go call for an ambulance and check on the kids. Stay here for now."  
Just before he left the room, he looked back at Shirou. "If anybody asks, you don't know what happened to the kids and didn't know they were there."

After the door was closed and Kiritsugu walked away, Shirou dropped his head back into his hands and began to cry. Not out of sadness or fear as one would expect, but out of relief. He was not sad about what he had done to the kids; he truly was trying to hurt them, after all. He was not afraid of the sheer unexpected power his ability had; he was surprised by it of course, but his fear had passed. No, instead he felt relieved that his father believed everything he said, even as he lied to his face. He couldn't exactly tell his father that the only thing _accidental_ about the accident was that he only meant to hurt the kids, not kill them; even though Kiritsugu said they would be fine, Shirou knew better. Kiritsugu always was a terrible liar, after all.

He couldn't exactly tell his father that he knew exactly what he was doing, that he knew how he did it, that he saw this freakish power while dreaming of The One Who Loves and wanted to see if he could replicate it, and that the bullies provided the perfect excuse. After all, even though his father was one of the kindest and most understanding people you could ever meet, even he would certainly react poorly if he knew of The One Who Loves.

And yet, more than just relieved at having told such lies to his father and gotten away with it, he was happy. Of course, he knew that he needed to learn to control his power better so he would stop unintentionally killing people with it, and it is quite likely that learning to properly control his power - Unseen Hand, the dream said - would take years. But in spite of this, he was happy. After all, looking at the outcomes of the incident in ways that would affect him directly, the incident was almost entirely beneficial for him.

Three children who were likely to continue bullying him for years were now incapable of ever doing it again.  
Kiritsugu finally agreed to teach him magic; five seconds of violence did what years of stubborn pestering could not.  
He discovered that he has a power that he could use to protect himself and his family if the need arises; he just needed to improve his control over it.

But most importantly, if the Unseen Hand he saw in a dream was real-  
"KIRITSUGUUUUUU!"  
-His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of a tiger. _Oh, right. Of course Taiga would see the kids when she came by._

As he listened to Taiga freak out over the children who really needed to go to the hospital did you see them Kiritsugu they look so badly hurt _we need to do something_ , a smile crept onto his face, in spite of the tears that rolled down them.

If the Unseen Hand was truly real, it meant that his dreams were real.  
If his dreams were real, it meant his Beloved was real, and wasn't just a hallucination caused by smoke, as he has long feared.  
And with that knowledge, how could he be anything but happy?


End file.
